To Feel
by kakashidiot
Summary: He sits on the terrace every day and hopes for what can never be. Trescentric. OC POV


**I do not own Trinity Blood – or Tres… but Sara is mine!**

**Of the Trinity Blood characters I like 3 - Abel, Tres and Hugue. Of the bad guys, I like Kampfer... he was cool... anyway, somebody was saying how they liked Tres... so here goes!**

**Hope you enjoy this! It isn't a pairing per se -but more of a character sketch. There is something about Tres that makes you wonder - and if you've read the 1st manga volume - makes you sigh... so hot! (don't get me wrong, Abel is booty-licious too, and super funny) but Tres has a special place in my heart!**

**Can hardly wait to buy the 1st volume in September (or was it November?) oh well... here goes!**

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To Feel

"He's just sitting there!" Santorini huffed as he hustled through the kitchen. My short, fat boss glared at me as if it were my fault – his dark black eyes sparked with fire.

I sighed.

_It's just like him to get so histrionic about nothing…_

_Geez…_

"Don't roll your eyes at me, Sara! He's taking up space – valuable space – again!"

I paused at the left the hot stuffy room and rounded the corner to wait at the counter for the next order coming up.

It was a decaf latte with apple pie.

The usual.

"He got a coffee and pie slice," I protested.

"Which he never eats!" My boss frowned. "This is LOITERING! If he's there for more than fifteen minutes and not drinking, Sara, ask him to leave – I don't want him to waste space that could be given to _buying_ customers."

"But – he IS buying! Just not eating the stuff…"

"Sara."

"Okay. Okay…"

So while I bussed the other tables – taking dirty plates, delivering coffees and pastries, snagging tips, I kept an eye on the man.

He was sitting there – as usual – at the further most table in the corner of the balcony – relaxing in the setting sun – eyes far away as he sat deep in thought.

It WAS a beautiful spot for thinking – and Rome looked like a jewel of fire on the soft rays of the dying sun – sweeping off the balcony patio was always my favorite chore at night. I followed his absent gaze to the centerpiece – the Vatican.

_Perhaps he's new?_ I thought. _Or a business man? Not a tourist by the look of his coat – maybe the Church? This hottie could be a priest?_

I checked him out – as I normally did – he wasn't too hard on the eyes. Chestnutty-red hair ruffled gently in the wind – the hard planes of his smooth face softened by a sad light in his dark eyes.

I turned around, deep in thought.

_Was he waiting for someone?_

_He looks so – so –_

_So alone._

It seems sad someone so sexy is so lonely.

Santorini gave me the "cut throat" sign as he motioned at our solitary client, then he turned and disappeared downstairs.

I sighed as I turned around and approached our oddball client.

"Uh – sir…"

I asked hesitantly.

No answer.

"Sir."

He turned – almost mechanically.

"Yes, ma'am?"

"Are you done here?"

"Negative. Is there – a problem?"

"Uhhh…"

_I've never talked to him before – man – he talks weird! Church? Must be – but oh! What a sexy voice! Ahhhh…. How can I expel someone like this! Waaahhhh!_

I didn't know what to say.

There was an uncomfortable pause.

"Are you –"

I paused, unsure.

"Are you waiting for somebody?"

The man blinked.

"Negative. I have no one to wait for."

"Oh…"

I was non-plussed.

"I sit here – because –"

This time he stopped – he bent his head to stare at the coffee cup – then raised his solemn eyes up to mine –

_So direct! Like a child –_

"Here under the sun, I feel –"

He shook his head and rose.

"I see I am loitering. I will leave. Thank you for your service."

"You don't want to have this?" I waved disbelievingly at the 10 dinar pie and coffee.

He stopped walking away.

"Feeling is not being."

What – what does that have to do with – is it a riddle?

"What do you –" I asked timidly. "What do you feel, then?"

I followed him down the stairs to the busy street below. He drew me along.

_What is it about him? Untouchable. Lonely. Remote. Innocent…_

_Has he been dumped? Or lost his job? Or – or got an incurable illness?_

"What do you feel?" I asked again as he turned away.

He stopped.

"I feel – the sun on my face – it is heat I cannot enjoy – and the wind in my hair – I have no sense of it – it is –"

He paused suddenly – and I felt as if we were broken marionettes our words barely reaching each other.

"It is an illusion," he added abruptly.

"What is?"

_The sense of desire filled the air between us – well… I felt it, he said nothing – looked nothing –_

_Is he nothing?_

"What is?" I asked again.

"To feel – human…" he said softly – as he walked away.

I didn't know what to say.

What could I say?

What should have I said?

It nags me – so here I am – still here – working –

Waiting.


End file.
